


Freckles

by kitogic



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Awkward Blow Jobs, Awkward Sex, Dorky laughing, F/M, Fingering, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, Zevran being the best wingman, a tiny bit of angst, dog being the second best wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitogic/pseuds/kitogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atrissa Surana is sitting by the campfire, having dirty thoughts about Alistair and speak of the devil, here he comes.</p><p>They end up having sex for the first time and neither of them honestly know what they're really doing and its pretty dorky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freckles

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything this long in forever. In all honesty, it took me forever because I kept getting flustered and had to take breaks writing it. I am a very shy bean. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the two dorkiest people in Ferelden banging for the first time.

She sat by the fire, the red and orange light bouncing off of her silver hair. So many thoughts swam through her mind. There was one in particular that she really wished would go away. She really, really cared for Alistair, in more ways than one. She wanted to hold him, to snort-laugh at his stupid jokes and puns, to kiss him, hard, and have him pin her to the ground and--- okay, wow, that was enough of that. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. This definitely wasn't the first time her mind had wandered to those places. It usually happened at night when she was alone in her tent. There, she could tend to whatever she needed in order to get her brain to shut up for a while. But ever since she had actually started kissing him, the fantasies got worse. She knew he felt for her too, something that, upon discovering, made her giggle and grin like an idiot. Which, considering who she was thinking about, was not a one sided reaction. When Atrissa had told Alistair how she felt, his face lit up. She remembered how he stuttered slightly, how his cheeks were flushed pink. She had noticed that his ears flushed too. She wondered if his entire body blushed? That would be adorable. And did he have freckles _everywhere_? That was something she needed to find out.

The image of Alistair laying out in nothing but his trousers brought color to her face. She had seen him like that in person before. Hell, he had seen her nude. She grinned at the memory. His face had turned redder than the sky at sunset. She had been bathing in a lake near their camp, attempting to get darkspawn blood and dirt from her hair and skin. She had been waist deep in the water when she heard noise behind her. Alistair had stupidly asked Zevran where she had gone, and the elf had told him to the lake to clean her supplies, which wasn’t entirely untrue. Atrissa herself hadn’t minded in the least; she was close with Alistair, and she trusted him. They hadn’t even been romantic at that point, but she didn’t care. It was just Alistair.

Alistair, however, cared a great deal. He turned away, fumbling over himself for an apology awkwardly. A jumbled, “not that I don’t want to see you topless, because let's face it, you're beautiful,” was thrown in there, which made Atrissa grin ear to pointed ear. Alistair had quite the way with words, in a way that caused Morrigan to wrinkle her nose and curl her lips every time he would make a quip. Atrissa herself loved his stupid little sayings and remarks. They were so charming. She wondered if he was as fast on his feet with dirty talk as he was with bad jokes. She bit her lip at the thought. Him, pinning her there, with his strong arms and hot breath on her neck, whispering against her skin…

She quickly shook her head, glancing around to see if anyone had seen her lapse in attention. Thankfully, only Zevran and Winston, the mabari, were up. He was near the entrance of their camp, sitting next to the large dog. Winston was happily wagging his short tail, leaning against Zevran for warmth. She sighed, running her hands through her hair. Then, suddenly, a voice spoke softly behind her.

“Can’t sleep?” She darted her head to the opposite side to find Alistair standing behind her, wearing nothing but a shirt and trousers. She smirked at him. “I hope you can fight off darkspawn in your night clothes,” she commented, looking him up and down. Alistair returned her grin, taking a seat next to her. “What, like we haven’t done something like that before?” he snorted. They were quiet for a bit, enjoying eachother’s company. Atrissa sighed quietly, messing with her hair yet again. It was a nervous habit of hers, one that Zevran said he found charming. Alistair watched her. “Everything alright?” He asked softly. She rested her chin on her palm. She couldn’t exactly just out and tell him the root of her issues. Of course, sure, just out and say, ‘Oh nothing much, I just daydream about you absolutely dominating me, how about yourself?’ Because that would go over _so_ well.

The elf leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, gazing into the fire. She had approached him twice before about the subject, actually. Both times he became painfully nervous and flustered, saying that he just wasn’t ready. Of course, she respected that. She herself wasn’t entirely ready. She just so desperately wanted to be close to him, to, in a way, claim him as her own and vice versa. With the world crumbling around them and death constantly at their heels, she needed some form of stability in her life. Of course, she had Zevran, Winston, and her other companions, as much as she had a general dislike for Morrigan. At least the woman was somewhat reasonable, she supposed. That was beside the point; Alistair was different. He always had been, ever since she met him at Ostagar. He looked at her and didn’t see a small, scrawny elf. He saw a young woman with a taste for bad jokes and a stupid snort-laugh. He had seen her, with all of her flaws and strengths, and had accepted her. That was more than she ever expected from her life in the Circle. Even what she had with him now far exceeded what she ever saw herself having. She bit her lip in thought. She wanted to tell him. She wanted him to know just how deeply she cared, but she couldn’t bare it if he rejected her again. She knew she was being childish, but she would be lying if she said it hadn’t hurt. She almost felt like… like she wasn’t good enough for him. She knew this wasn’t the case, of course it wasn’t. But the thought still lingered.

Atrissa closed her eyes, and she felt Alistair lean his head on hers. It was a nice warmth, and she wanted to freeze this moment forever. Just the two of them, happy, safe, and warm. Surrounded by those who cared about them, all of which were safely sleeping in their tents. She squeezed her eyes tighter. She knew that upon daybreak, all that would end. They would once again be thrown into the fray, not knowing if they’d make it to the next night. She didn’t realize she was trembling until Alistair shifted, cupping her face gently. “Triss, what’s wrong?” He asked, eyebrows pulled together with concern. Atrissa’s eyes scanned his face, taking in every inch of it. The way his freckles danced over the highs of his face, how his amber-brown eyes shone in the dark…

And just like that, her lips were on his. Alistair let out a surprised noise, but definitely didn’t fight her advance. She held his face, kissing him hard. She poured everything into the kiss, the fear, the longing, the passion she had held back. He was her and she was his, and that's all that mattered to her. The young warrior snaked his arms around her waist, easily encompassing her small frame. She felt so safe when he held her; a plus to having a beefy warrior boyfriend, she thought. She nipped at his lower lip, and he readily complied. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, causing a shiver to run down her spine and to her core. She wanted more, no, needed more. She pulled herself onto his lap, straddling him. He raked his fingers through her short hair, moaning against her mouth softly. At that he pulled away, face red and breath labored. “S-sorry,” he managed to get out before she was back on him. She wanted him to make that sound again.

“Get a room!” Atrissa snorted, breaking the second kiss quickly. She looked over her shoulder to see Zevran smirking proudly at them. Then she realized the situation that she and Alistair were in and her heart sank. But before she could respond, Alistair was up on his feet, easily holding Atrissa in her place. She let out a soft squeak of surprise, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Planning on it!” He called back, a grin on his face. Atrissa gazed at him in wonder. Was he really… did he really? He looked down at her with light dancing in his eyes. “Of course, only if you’ll have me,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. She laughed loudly, throwing her arms around his neck. “Of course, you buffoon!” Alistair frowned in mock hurt. “You wound me, my lady.”

“Only if you’re into it,” she purred, lidding her eyes. Alistair’s expression changed once more to delighted shock and he hurried toward one of the tents in the back of their camp. Atrissa laughed so hard she snorted when he plopped her down on the thin fabric they called a bed. “Was that too rough?” Alistair asked, drawing his brows together. Atrissa cocked an eyebrow and reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. “If it get’s too much, I’ll let you know,” she said lovingly. She couldn’t stop gazing into his eyes. They were so bright, and alive, and just happy, and that made butterflies erupt in her stomach. She grinned, mouth closed. She was very visibly elated, and she stroked the side of Alistair’s face. “Are you sure you’re ready?” She murmured. For a second, she was worried that he was going to pull away. Alistair did the opposite; he leaned in and kissed her open mouthed, a long and passionate kiss that made Atrissa’s heart race.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” the elf laughed softly once they broke, pressing her forehead to his. He chuckled as well, gazing into her large hazel eyes. “Good, because that’s what I meant,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. Atrissa smiled up at him, still cupping his face. Maker, he was beautiful. She rested her thumb on his lips and she cocked her head slightly. She wondered what those lips would feel like pressed to her inner thigh. The idea itself made heat rise to her face again. What made her truly flustered is that she could ask him to do it, right now. But first she had to get out of her armor. She wiggled, causing Alistair to cock an eyebrow. She moved her hands quickly at the latches that held her chestplate in place. Once the young man realized what she was doing, he fumbled to help her. She giggled when their hands both worked frantically to free her from her garments. When she was done, she was sitting up, eyes bright, in her underclothes. Alistair watched her, a small smirk on his lips.

For the first time, Atrissa felt shy in front of Alistair. Maybe because this time he wasn’t a bumbling fool with a red face and a stutter. This time he was smirking at her. _Smirking_. She stuck out her lip, eyebrows knitted together. Alistair chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. She needed to gain the upper hand in this situation or she’d be flustered the whole time. No, she was going to take the real initiative.

When their lips touched, she leaned all her weight into him, wrapping an arm around his neck while the other went to his stomach. She pressed her palm to his navel, trailing her touch down to his hip as she kissed him. She felt him jolt, a low noise escaping from his throat. She pulled at his lip with her teeth as she ran her hand in small circles on his pelvis, and she felt his face grow warm. His arms snaked their way round her waist as he pulled her closer, pressing their chests together. Atrissa dared to move her hand lower, her own embarrassment growing. She had never touched a man before, not like this. She prayed that she was doing the right thing. She almost pulled her hand away when she touched the bulge in his trousers. She gasped quietly, breaking their kiss. Alistair had gasped at her touch as well, eyes wide. “Please,” he said hoarsely. She knew what he wanted, what she wanted as well. Gingerly, she placed her hand over his clothed erection, causing Alistair to let out a soft hiss of air. It was thicker than she thought it would have been, not that she was complaining. She moved her hand, feeling along the shape of it slowly. Alistair bit his lip, watching her hand. “T-Triss, can you…?” He didn’t finish his sentence, but the elf had a pretty good idea what he meant. She moved her hands, going to work at the lacings of his trousers. Once undone, Alistair shifted, moving them down and off along with his smalls.

Atrissa bit her lip. That was a penis. She knew her face must be flushed, but she didn’t care. She had seen naked men before, sure. She had seen desperate apprentices quickly stealing time with each other in dark corners and hidden places. Even though relations like that were forbidden, people had urges. She had urges as well, particularly for a young templar that had alway been kind to her. That seemed so long ago. Now she was here, with Alistair. Alistair. That’s what brought color to her cheeks. That this was Alistair, bare for her to see. His expression changed, a look of concern crossing his handsome face. “Is… everything ok?” He asked awkwardly, shifting. Atrissa was pulled back to him, eyes wide. “Yes! Maker, Alistair, yes, it’s wonderful,” she said quickly. He let out an amused breath, his expression relaxing. She let her eyes travel again. He was still partially clothed, even if he was only in his sleep shirt. That somehow managed to make him look sexier and it was almost frustrating. Alistair shifted, and she could really see how well muscled his legs were and, Andraste give her strength, his _ass_. She managed to get a glimpse of it when he moved and nearly felt faint.

“So… are you just going to look, or…?” Alistair asked in his awkward way. “W-well, I’ve just… I’ve never…” Atrissa tried to find the right words. Why was it so hard for her to say that she’s never touched a man? “I don’t know what feels good,” she finally decided on. Alistair looked down at her hands, taking one gently. “May I?” He asked softly. Blushing, the other Warden nodded. Alistair guided her hand to his dick, wrapping their hands around the shaft. He took a second, eyes slightly wider than usual, to look at her thin hand, in his, wrapped around him. Atrissa felt ridiculously shy. “J-just, ah, move your hand,” he instructed. Maker, this was awkward. She thought that this would go much smoother, but seeing him like this made her brain turn to mush and her body feel weird. Not a bad weird, that was for sure, but just… She turned her focus to him. She moved her hand, pumping him gingerly. She felt her heart flutter at the noise that moved past his lips. She wanted more of it. She moved her hand faster, watching his face eagerly.  
Oh, this was definitely worth the wait. Alistair’s eyes were closed, his lips parted slightly. His whole face was flushed, and he was very obviously enjoying this. She felt a small swell of pride in her chest. She must have been making a face, because when he finally managed to open his eyes he snorted with laughter. Atrissa frowned, causing Alistair to smile apologetically. “You are entirely too cute, you know that?” She cocked an eyebrow in challenge. She let her eyes slid back down to his length and, without warning, moved down and took the head in her mouth. Alistair let out a choked moan in surprise, tilting his head back. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do, but she did her best. She sank her head down, taking him as far into her mouth as she could. He let out ragged breaths, grabbing on to her shoulders tightly. She pressed her tongue to the underside of his dick, smiling slightly at the noises he made. Atrissa ran her hand along his thigh as she moved her head the way she had seen apprentices do a long time ago in the shadowed corners of the Circle halls, hollowing her cheeks as she moved up and down on him.

Alistair gasped, a hand moving to her head. He didn’t push, only tangled his fingers in her short, silver hair. This sent a shock down the young elf’s spine, causing her to moan softly around him. He bent slightly at the waist, moaning. “T-Triss,” he managed, opening his eyes just enough to see how she looked with her lips wrapped around his cock. That seemed to make him incredibly happy, because she could taste his precum on her tongue, something that wasn’t unpleasant, but not expected. She came off of him, making sure to drag her tongue on the head as she did. He let out a breathy sigh, body tensing.

She smiled at him slyly, wiping her mouth clean of spit. “Am I still too cute, your highness?” She teased, running her hand across his upper thigh. He looked down at her with stars in his eyes, absolute wonder written on his face. “I… well, I… uh…” Eloquent, as always. Atrissa’s smirk turned into a grin as she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. She laughed quietly, pulling her teeth across his lips and he pulled her close. She pressed their foreheads together, her hazel eyes gazing into his. He wrapped an arm around her, hand snaking down to her ass.

She shivered as he squeezed, her breath hitching. Her pulse quickened as his hand kept going down and under her, until he was rubbing his index finger over her damp smalls. She whimpered, arching so that he could reach her better. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, taking in the smell of him. Sweat, dirt, and something that was unmistakably Alistair. She had no idea what else she could describe it as. She shuttered as he rubbed in circles, the faint pleasure making her breath heavy. He moved almost painfully slow as he moved her smalls to the side and ran his calloused fingers over her folds. She moaned loudly, causing her face to flush red. If she had looked up, she would have seen him grin widely. He teased her, his fingers quickly becoming slick with her wetness.

“Do I really turn you on this much?” He whispered down to her, his eyes lidded and soft.

Atrissa was about to shoot back a response, but he slid an experimental finger inside of her and she yelped, hiding her face yet again into his shoulder. He bit his lip, the feeling of her hot and wet around his finger causing him to wonder what it would be like for his cock.  
“A-Alistair…” she whimpered as he began to pump his finger inside her. She was trembling, not used to the size of him. The only thing that had been inside her previously were her own fingers, and that was nothing compared to having him touch her. She moved her own hand to the junction of her thighs, pressing her fingertips to her clit. She moaned as she rubbed little circles over the sensitive nub. The cloth of her strained smalls bit at her left hip, but that only seemed to add to her arousal.

“M-more,” she managed to mumble, her hips rolling back against his hand. Alistair moved his finger, trying to get it in as deep as he could. She was shaking, and moaning, and _sweet Andraste_ , her voice was so beautiful. But at this angle, his arm was beginning to ache, but her voice was so sweet, and---

“A-Alistair,” she moaned, this time, he noticed, with the intention of asking him a question.

“Mhm?”

“Alistair, fuck me,” She said, her voice thick with longing. Alistair swallowed, his mind turning to fuzz. He pulled his hand away, eliciting a whine from his lover. She was still shivering, but she moved to look up at Alistair. Her eyes gleamed, long ears tilted down, and her pale skin was flushed.

She positioned herself over him so that she was on her knees over his lap in a straddle. She watched his face, biting her now kiss-bruised lips. She wanted him, oh Maker, how she wanted him. He gazed at her, hands on her hips and gently lowered her down onto him. She gasped quietly, feeling his members brush up against her sex, and then slowly enter her. She cried out, and Alistair stopped, his expression quickly shifting to worry. “Are you alright? Triss, did I hurt-?”

She shook her head vigorously, stopping him. “K-keep going,” she said, eyes closed. He hesitated, so she took the initiative. She lowered herself down, gasping silently as she did, until she met his hips. Alistair’s breath was shallow and he moved his hands to her waist.

Atrissa took a few seconds, adjusting to his size. It filled her in a way she had never experienced before, and she loved it. She let out a long, heavy breath. Her eyes creased, smiling sweetly at him. He was so gorgeous under her like this, face flushed, shirt messily gathered up so that exposed his stomach and part of his chest. She loved how his freckles looked like star patterns across his skin. She placed her hands on his abdomen, bending over slightly to steady herself.

The prince’s grip on her tightened slightly as he looked up at her. “All good up there?” He asked. Atrissa supposed he finally found his wit again. She grinned at him. “Theirin, I swear-” Her words were turned into a sharp moan as Alistair thrusted up, causing Atrissa to move forward. He tried to suppress a laugh and she jokingly glared down at him. “That’s how we’re going to play this then?” She asked, cocking her head. She leaned down, biting his neck, and bounced on him. He let out a moan that he quickly tried to hide, but it was too late. Atrissa pressed a soft kiss to the bite, but continued moving on Alistair. She really had no way to describe it, other than sodding wonderful. Feeling him inside her, hot and wanting, was incredible. She bit back moans as Alistair began to meet her rides with thrusts, causing him to hit her harder and deeper. She sat up straight, chin pulled to her chest as her mouth hung open in heavy breaths. She could feel him stretching her so deliciously. She didn’t know what sex would feel like, but she hadn’t expected this for some reason. She definitely wasn’t complaining, though.

“A-Alistair… Maker, Alistair,” she moaned. Her hands moved down and she rubbed her clit in circles, causing shocks of pleasure to run through her. She let out a cry as he put more force behind his thrusts, then slowed once again. She could feel the familiar pool of pleasure in her stomach slowly build. She let him take his own pace, not changing her hand’s speed. Creators, it was good. She forced herself to keep her eyes open to watch the man under her. His expression was almost euphoric, eyes closed and lips parted. Curious, she rolled her hips in a circle and he moaned, head tilting back. She felt that same tinge of pride again; she had been the one to make him feel good.

The circle elf was surprised how well she was handling the pleasure until he began to moan her name. That sent shocks straight to her core. It was heavy on his tongue, said more like a prayer than a name. She watched his face in pleasured awe, finding it hard to keep her eyes open. Each thrust sent a new wave through her, causing her voice to rise in pitch. She tried to keep quiet best she could, however. She didn’t need everyone in camp knowing that she had bedded Alistair. At that thought, she bit her lip. Maybe she did want everyone knowing. Her hand moved faster, rubbing her sensitive nub. She could feel herself getting close to the edge, the pleasure pooling inside her.

“I-I’m close,” Alistair managed to say, his body beaded with sweat. It was one of the most beautiful things Atrissa had ever witnessed. “I’m so close…” Those words brought her to the brink, and she moved her hand faster, bringing her hips down harder. She wanted to cum with him, needed to cum with him.

“A-Alist- _Ah_!” She cried out, her oragasm wracking her body. She arched, her legs tense and her toes curled, as she felt herself tighten around him. She hadn’t even noticed that Alistair had stopped moving, forcing himself to stay still. She was too busy seeing stars. He watched her, holding back a moan as she came on him. That was almost too much; he couldn’t come yet, though. Not while he was inside her. She finally came down, breathing hard, and he used what little self control he had to lift her off of him. The elf whined in displeasure, but he merely smiled at her as his hand went to his throbbing cock.

Atrissa watched with wide eyes as he stroked himself quickly, his moans returning. She swore softly, unable to look away. He came within a few moments, ropes of semen spurting on to his chest and hand. He was curled over himself, but after a few seconds of catching his breath, he looked up at Atrissa. “S-sorry, Triss, I just…” She gave him a warm, tired, and knowing smile. She crawled to him, careful to avoid the mess on him, and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a mess, Smelly,” she teased, pressing another kiss to his jaw.

“Hey, I am _not_ smelly!” He huffed defensively, pulling a rag from the corner of his tent to clean himself. His lover tutted, nuzzling his neck.

“You smell like Alistair. Technically speaking, you have a smell and therefore you are smelly.” Alistair cocked an eyebrow. “That’s… actually pretty sound logic. But I am not smelly.”

Atrissa laughed. She rested against Alistair, wanting him to lay down so they could sleep. She was very tired, even with her Grey Warden stamina. He kissed the top of her head, laying down. He pulled Atrissa close, burying his nose in her hair.

“You’re smelly too,” he murmured. She snorted. Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Thank you, Alistair.”

“For what? Calling you smelly?”

“Wonderful sex?” she yawned, not quite sure herself why she thanked him. He chuckled, sighing.

Then they were quiet, letting the night air cool their sweaty bodies. In this moment, all was well. They were together and that’s what mattered. And now Atrissa knew the answer to her question. He really did have freckles _everywhere_.


End file.
